Choices
by WoWriter
Summary: Hanna Montana/Miley Stewart is turning eighteen, and finds that there are a lot of new and important choices to be made as she enters adulthood. About Miley developing as a person. Later chapters may include romance/pairings, dependent largely on review.


Chapter 1 – Eat or Drink?

"Hannah!"

Hannah Montana whipped her head around at the sound of the shriek. The make up artist took a deep steadying breath to subjugate her frustration as the tone she had been adding to the young starlet's cheek smeared.

Blissfully unaware of the manner in which she had blemished her features, the pop star smirked slightly at the approaching girl's unnecessarily energetic greeting before responding casually.

"Hey Mikayla, what're you doing here?"

Throughout the past year, the two performers had encountered each other often enough that it became necessary to mend their differences. Eventually, an unspoken agreement to avoid animosity grew into mutual respect. That in turn had evolved to become the casual friendship they currently enjoyed.

"I came to deliver very important news," replied Mikayla with a grin.

Hannah waited several seconds for the other shoe to drop before taking the bait.

"Okay, okay, I'll ask: what is the very important news?"

The last word had barely escaped her lips, when she was delivered an extremely excited answer.

"You're hosting a full-blown, no-holds-barred, club party!"

Blinking, the teen singer fell back into her childhood lingo as an instinctive response to such a surprise.

"Yelling girl in my dressing room say _what_?"

"Oh don't worry, you don't have to host in the traditional sense, its already all set up. However, you are the guest of honor," a pause for breath and then, "Its your eighteenth birthday Hannah, and a few of us decided that that just could not go without some extra celebration!"

"Ah, thanks, that's really sweet. But I'm turning eighteen, not twenty one. I mean, maybe I'm just thinking of the wrong type of club but…"

"No," Mikayla laughed lightly, "I don't think there is another type of club, but there are certain places, still classy places mind you, that just sorta let things slide. Well, for the right people. Such as, oh I don't know, one of the biggest celebrities on the planet?"

When Hannah still looked unsure, her friend sighed and reached over to squeeze her shoulder gently.

"Look, I said we had it all taken care of, alright? All you have to do is show up."

Their discussion was brought to an abrupt halt as the now thoroughly flustered make up lady finished haphazardly with Hannah's face and checked the wall clock.

"Miss Montana, you really have to get out there now."

As she straightened her rocker vest and hurried towards the door, the pop star called back over her shoulder.

"Just let me think about it real quick, kay? I'll call you tonight!"

"Saturday! Starts at seven! Be there!"

Nodding absently, Hannah opened the door with indecision clouding her mind. It wasn't as though she'd never drank alcohol before, what teenager hadn't? However, this was on a bit bigger of a scale, and she wasn't sure she could handle herself in that kind of situation.

Then she stepped out onto the stage, smiling and waving both enthusiastically and sincerely, and all thoughts other than the music, lights, and fans, left her mind.

***

"Miley!"

At the sound of her father's voice, echoing up the stairwell from the kitchen, Miley hurriedly said goodbye to Mikayla, assuring her for at least the tenth time that she would be at the party, and snapped the Hannah phone shut.

"Supper's ready!"

Sliding off her bed, the Malibu teen headed out of her room and down to the dinner table. As she walked in and picked up a plate, she glanced casually at her brother who was scooping copious amounts of gravy onto his already overly laden plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

"Jackson, you're gross," the girl stated in a conversational tone, slicing off a civilized portion of meatloaf for herself.

Without pausing his actions, he momentarily stuck his tongue out at her. Equally successfully multi-tasking, Miley returned the gesture. Their father rolled his eyes, but refrained from speaking; he knew by now that it would only be a waste of breath.

"You make great meatloaf dad, but you know this is the second time we've had it this week," Miley commented as she sat down.

Robby Ray sat down across from his daughter and, after one somewhat frightened glance at Jackson who was still filling his plate, responded with a wide grin.

"Well bud, you can choose whatever food you want on Saturday."

"Saturday..?"

"Don't tell me you forgot your own eighteenth birthday! Your grandma's even flying out from Tennessee to see it. My little girl… all grown up…" Robby Ray sniffed slightly.

Miley groaned out loud.

"I'm sorry bud, but there are some things that are just hard on a daddy."

Sighing, Miley hurried to correct her father.

"No, no, dad. It's not that. It's just…" she sighed again.

"Miles..?" her father sounded a bit worried as he leaned forward, "Just what, bud?"

"Well, I kinda promised some friends that I'd celebrate with them on Saturday night."

Frowning only for a moment, Robby Ray sat back and straightened his shoulders.

"You're turning eighteen, bud. Miles, that means you're gonna be an adult, and as hard as that is for me to accept at times, I know you can handle the responsibility of that. I also know you can handle the added independence, and it's your birthday, so you should do what makes _you_ happy."

He cut himself a bite of meatloaf and dipped it into his mashed potatoes.

"The choice is yours."


End file.
